I Write What I'd Like To Read

His Words Had Tossed The Book That Was Her Life Into The Air And The Pages Had Been Blown Into Disarray, Could Never Be Put Back Together To Tell The Same Story.

You Make A Life Out Of What You Have, Not What You're Missing.

I've Heard It Said That Children Born To Stressful Times Never Shake The Air Of Woe . . . .

She Was The Sort Of Person For Whom Fear Was The Natural Response To That Beyond Explanation.

Cassandra's Grandmother Smiled Then, Only It Wasn't A Happy Smile. Cassandra Thought She Knew How It Felt To Smile Like That. She Often Did So Herself When Her Mother Promised Her Something She Really Wanted But Knew Might Not Happen.